My husband’s face went pale when I told him the news. Stunned at the revelation, he hurriedly started making plans to be “otherwise engaged” over the weekend of December 1 and 2.
The cause of his horror? After
a gap of two years, the Tour de Trigs is back. And back in 44 days time. In
fact one of the Tour de Trigs organisers helpfully left a comment at House With
No Name, asking me to spread the word.
For anyone who hasn’t come
across it, the Tour de Trigs challenge is a gruelling 24-hour orienteering hike
through the wilds of the Oxfordshire, Warwickshire and Northamptonshire
countryside. Competitors (lots of them walk for charity) are given a set of map references and have to be
checked off at each one.
If that wasn’t tough
enough, the event is always held in December – when the days are short, the
temperatures are freezing and the fields are clogged in mud. Worst of all, at
least half the trek is done in the dark.
I’ve never done it (and
never intend to) but my husband has. A crazy five times – and usually in
lashing rain. Each time he says he’s never going to do it again but then his
doctor friend Tim rings and he always ends up saying “great idea - count me in.”
The walkers compete in
teams of three and have to carry rucksacks equipped with everything from
blister plasters, maps and sleeping bags to head torches and reflective
armbands. My husband takes a flask of strong black coffee, flapjacks and
hot cheese and tomato rolls (wrapped in tin foil to keep them warm). A couple
of hours in, he can’t face any of it and has to force himself to eat.
They set off on Saturday
morning and the rot always sets in as dusk falls. One year my husband felt so
sick he had to quit halfway. The next, one of his team-mates fell ill. Another
time he trudged on through wind and rain, unable to speak or map-read, and
fainted on the kitchen floor when he got home.
So, the big question in our
house is – will he sign up or will he flee the country? Somehow I suspect the
latter…
